Cal's Quest Part One

By R.P. Wollbaum

For his last high school spring break, Cal heads into the mountains to decide what to do with the rest of his life. More stars than normal appear in the sky and a shimmering goes threw the air.

Returning home, there is no traffic on the roads, his parents are not home and the power and gas are not working.

Aft

• Language: English
• Publisher: R. P. Wollbaum
• Release date: Aug 31, 2022
• ISBN: 9780995253735

R.P. Wollbaum

R.P. Wollbaum and his faithful companions Lady and Baron, live in the foothills of the Rocky Mountains in Southern Alberta Canada. When not busy composing a new novel, he can be found exploring North America in 'Da Buss'.

Book preview

Cals Quest

Part One

First Published in Canada by Midar and Associates Ltd. 2016

Copyright © R.P. Wollbaum 2016

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. Any similarities with persons or places alive or dead is purely coincidental.

ISBN: 9780995253735

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electric, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publisher.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Also by R P Wollbaum

Chapter One

The winter had been mild. Only a few days had been sub-zero. Now it was late March and most of the snow was gone, even in the high country. Migratory birds were returning and the woods were alive with their sounds as they fluttered through the trees or called for mates. While it still dropped to below zero at night, it warmed up in the daytime, sometimes enough to not require a jacket.

Spring break had just started, Cal’s last in high school. He had loaded all his gear into his old Ford pickup truck the night before and hooked the two horse trailer up to the back of it. He had enough canned goods to last two weeks in the Canadian Rockies near his home, water for two days, and three-in-one freeze-dried emergency rations for five days, just in case. His sleeping bag was wrapped around the pad the locals call a foamy. Tarp, axe, collapsible shovel, rope to build a corral, oats, nose bags for the horses, cast iron frying pan, kit of a pot, cup, plate that fit inside one another completed his gear.

His girlfriend would be going to Phoenix for the spring break with her parents in their company’s private jet. Candice’s father was the CEO and majority shareholder of a mid-sized oil and gas company and her mother came from old money. Why the very popular, cute cheerleader had decided he should be her boyfriend at the beginning of the school year baffled Cal, but he definitely didn’t mind. Although he was a good athlete, he didn’t play on any of the school’s teams. He wasn’t a geek, but his marks were high enough for him to be accepted in a local university, just. He lived on the very outskirts of the school district and between the farm chores and the 45-minute commute to school, he just didn’t have time to attend practices or games. He would graduate in a few months. He really had no idea where he wanted his life to go.

Candice had big plans for both of them, and Cal just went along with her to make her happy. She had their whole lives planned out  – what their careers would be, where they would live, what kind of house they would have, how many kids, and when and even where they would vacation every summer.

Cal was not so sure. He preferred the nice simple farm life. His parents and Candice’s wanted them both to finish university, Cal with a geology degree and Candice with a degree in law. The only good thing about geology, thought Cal, was that he could spend a lot of time in the mountains. Candice had other plans, though. So did her parents, he thought sarcastically. Yes, sure, they had big plans for Cal. That they had flown to Phoenix for the spring break and not even asked Cal to come along told him where he fit into their scheme of things. Not that he minded all that much. He would be up in the high country for the whole two weeks by himself, trying to figure out what he wanted to really do with his life.

He had loaded his horse in the trailer as the first hint of grey dawn was showing itself on the eastern horizon that Saturday morning. With a last wave to his parents watching from the front door , he started off, turning left on the gravel road that led to the secondary highway. It took him almost two hours to reach the remote staging area where he would leave the truck and trailer. The last hour was on a very rough road, really just a trail barely wide enough for two vehicles to pass, cut through the trees with a little gravel spread on it.

The area he was headed was fairly popular in the summer by the horse-packing locals and the hardcore backpacking crowd from the big city and was at that time off limits to any motorised vehicle traffic. But this time of year, he would have the area to himself.

The sun was dipping behind the mountains as he unsaddled the two horses at the spot he had chosen, beside a stream that had flowing open water. Cal quickly set up his rope corral for the two horses using trees surrounding a small open area, brushed them down and took them for water. He collected enough dry brush and old branches to start a fire, took enough food for the night out of the food panier, then hoisted it up in a tree. No sense in tempting any bears. After supper, he spread the tarp on the ground, took the foamy out of the sleeping bag, put the sleeping bag on top of it and both on the top of the tarp. Taking off his boots and jacket, he got in the sleeping bag, wrapped the tarp overtop and was soon asleep.

After breakfast the next morning, Cal set about building the lean-to shelter he would use for the next two weeks. It was wide enough for him to lay out comfortably, high enough for him to sit under and deep enough to store the saddles in. He had laid pine boughs on the floor and the tarp over the pine boughs. The pine boughs that made up the roof and the sides were tightly interlaced and would let in no wind or rain. He had dragged over two logs and placed them one on top of the other behind the fire to provide a heat reflector to warm the lean-to.

The next day was spent in collecting enough firewood to last a few days. That night, looking up into the clear sky, he noticed there were more than the usual amount of shooting stars. It must be a comet storm or something, he thought and stayed up late watching the show in the quiet dark night.

The next morning, the horses were restless. They were not excited or nervous, just restless. They paced the corral perimeter, stopping to scent the air or to cock ears listening for something. Nothing appeared out of the normal to Cal. Squirrels were busy doing what squirrels do and the birds were chirping and flitting about normally. Looking to the west at the mountains, Cal saw no indications of a weather change approaching. Maybe they were just bored, he thought, so he saddled up one of them and placed a halter and lead rope on the other. Taking his fishing rod, he rode into the bush for about an hour until he came to a beaver pond he knew about. He unsaddled the horse he had ridden, hobbled both mares and began fishing while the horses grazed on the meadows grass.

As he lay on the grass with his rod propped against a stump, hands under his head gazing up at the sky, he noticed that the comets, or whatever, were visible somewhat, even in the day. Then in a flash, just about noon, they were all gone. About an hour after that, a shimmering coming from the south and the east swept across the sky. The horses jerked up their heads as it crossed high above. Then another, more powerful shimmering came, and this one Cal felt. The hair on his arms and at the back of his neck rose as the shimmering passed over them. It felt like a light electrical charge passed through him. Then, as suddenly as it appeared, it was over. The now silent woods slowly came back to life and soon it was as if nothing had happened.

Cal shrugged his shoulders. Things happen, he thought. He would find out what it was when he returned home and right now he was busy. His red and white bobber had disappeared under the water and his line was unspooling. He had caught a fish! By the time he left, Cal had three two-pound brown trout, enough to last him the rest of the week.

Now it was time to return home. He was a little clearer on what he wanted to do with his future. He would wait until next spring to go to university and work on the farm until then. He was only17, turning 18 in July. He needed more time and knew his father would support him. When he did go to university, he would take general studies courses until he really figured out what he wanted to do.

Cal started to break down the camp he had used the past two weeks, collapsing the rough lean-to he had constructed from deadfall and scattering the pine boughs that had made up the roof and side walls. He put his garbage into the mostly empty pack saddle paniers along with what was left of his supplies, bedding and clothing. Then he collected both horses, brushed them down, first saddling his riding horse and then the pack animal.

It was just past eight in the morning when he stepped up into the saddle and made his way down the trail to the spot where his pickup truck and horse trailer waited. He should make it by night fall, even taking it easy, which he intended to do, savoring each of the last moments of solitude.

The truck and trailer were still there, undisturbed after two weeks. There weren’t even any tire tracks indicating anyone had been around. Cal unloaded the camping gear and horse equipment and put it all in the back of the pickup, then started the truck and let it warm up as he loaded both horses in the trailer. Then he executed a deft three-point turn and drove back home. The only thing on the radio was static. There was no traffic on the highway and no signs of life on the farms he passed. A half-hour later he was